Krystal glanced down warily, clutching the tree trunk tighter to her. It
was three weeks later, and her leg and ribs, though healed, were still sore
and she was still supposed to be taking it easy. Supposed to be, anyway.
She ducked down a little tighter, bringing her lithe body a little closer
together in a tighter ball as quiet footsteps approached the bottom of the
tree she was hiding in. She closed her eyes and eased her breathing.
Elrohir cocked his head, listening, his eyes narrowed intently as he stood under the thick branches of the weeping willow he knew Krystal was hiding in. Over his shoulder was his bow and quiver, but something about the arrows were different. The usual long, slim deadly shafts were replaced by long sticks with blunt batches of grasses pressed tightly together and put in a leather bag. The bag was then attached to a long, narrow stick, and dipped in brightly colored paint.
It was Middle Earth meets paintball guns.
It was Krystal's idea, of course. After her confrontation with Elladan, and then Legolas, Krystal had emerged unscathed. Eventually, she became the Krystal they knew again, save for one thing.
She wouldn't look them in the eye.
It didn't matter what they said or how they said, or how she laughed or how she smiled. She wouldn't look them in the eye.
Eventually they thought they were over reacting. But as the weeks went by, and still the only glimpses of her eyes they caught was when she rolled them, they began to worry again.
Yet how could they say anything? She would accuse them of being worry-worts and overprotective, and Elrohir reasoned, maybe they were being paranoid.
There was only one thing to do. Let it go. Let the hard stuff, let the complicated implications of her...*stay* in the village, go. She obviously did not wish to speak of it, and they could do nothing but follow her wishes.
It had been Aragorn who had brought of the suggestion of a game to improve on their archery skills, and rightly so. Out of the four of them, Aragorn was the weakest with a bow and arrow, and always felt more comfortable with a sword in his hand as opposed to crouching in a tree with a stick trying to aim for the fist-sized target of the heart. Krystal, though she hadn't been originally included in the plan, immediately worked up a way to make the game more fun and less dangerous so she could persuade her way into the game. Elladan had readily agreed, but it had taken some amount of whining and hair-tossing to convince Aragorn, Legolas, and Elrohir that this was in all actuality a productive activity. Aragorn and Legolas and Elrohir, and even Elladan had been unusually tense this morning, though Krystal didn't know why, so it had taken a good deal more of pleading then it normally would have. Eventually, however, they gave in.
The loser team had to muck out the stalls of the winning team's horses for a week. Elrohir and Elladan had been so sure they were going to win, that before the game had officially began, Krystal had spotted the mischievous twins removing manure from other horses stalls to put in their own mount's stalls, so Krystal, Aragorn and Legolas would have more work to do. Needless to say, she was determined to win.
Elrohir took another deliberate step forward, out of Krystal's viewpoint, and ever so slightly, nodded, his eyes fixed on something in the trees.
Krystal relaxed, leaning back, grinning. She reached for her 'arrows', dripping bright yellow in paint, and aimed directly for Elrohir's back.
Out of nowhere, a blue blurb was flying towards her cheek. It smacked her across the face, splattering blue dye into her mouth and all over her face. She spluttered for a moment, catching onto a particularly large tree branch, her feet swinging out from under her from the impact from the blow. She swung there for a moment, stunned as the paint dripped down over her shirt. Another *arrow* flew towards her midriff and she let out a graceful, 'OMPH!' as it knocked the wind out of her.
Several feet away, Elrohir burst out laughing, and Elladan from his position in the trees across from her, lowered his bow gleefully. "Next time pay attention to your surroundings!" he yelled, laughing over his shoulder as he jumped from tree branch to tree branch as only elves can.
Krystal's eyes narrowed and she wiped the blue paint out of her eyes determinedly, but even she couldn't wipe the grin off her face. She swung herself rather awkwardly onto the tree branch, blinking to keep the paint out of her vision. "LEGOLAS! ARAGORN!" she cried exasperatingly. "WHERE ARE YOU?!" She aimed her bow at Elladan's retreating back, but her arrow fell several feet short and with a snicker, her prey dashed out of sight. But his brother still stood on the path, doubled over with laughter.
Suddenly, Elrohir felt a sharp jab in his derriere. He turned around sharply to find bright yellow paint all over his behind, the 'arrow' sticking out like a tail.
He looked up, horrified to see Aragorn smirking insanely, before letting out a bark of laughter and sprinting off into the trees.
"ARAGORN, I'll get you!" Elrohir roared, plucking the projectile off of his behind with a disgusted look, trying to mask the grin that kept sliding off into his face.
Elladan darted between the trees, a blonde blur on his tail. "Elrohir, run!" Elladan called out in warning, but it was too late, and the speeding yellow projectile hit his brother smack in the face.
Krystal burst into laughter, tears of hysteria mixing with the blue paint that ran down her face. She sat down on the branch, giggling insanely, and swinging her feet back and forth as her laughter echoed throughout the forest. Legolas grinned at the sight of the disgruntled elf, then glanced up with a bark of laughter where Krystal sat like an oversized smurf.
"Lady Krystal," he said graciously with a mock-bow. "You look lovely. The color brings out your eyes."
Krystal's giggling ceased for a moment, and while he raised a brow quizzically, she took her arrow, and not bothering to use her bow as he was so close to the foot of her hiding place, she dropped it on his head.
It dripped down into his already blonde hair slowly but surely, and dripped steadily into the shocked elf's eyes. "We're on the same team!" He exclaimed outrage, but Krystal giggled like mad, jumping down from the tree and running as fast as she could in the opposite direction. "Not anymore!" she called over her shoulder.
Legolas wiped the paint grimly out of his eyes, and Elladan shook his head. "Women," Legolas muttered disgruntled.
----------------------------------------
A few hours later, into the late afternoon, Krystal frowned, pitchfork in hand. She leaned down to scoop some manure into the wheelbarrow near her thigh, then paused at the sound of voices in the stable. She knew she was alone - Elladan and Elrohir had been called to an important meeting and were unable to gloat over her, and Legolas and Aragorn had already done their fair share of stalls after they had lost the game this morning. She glanced over curiously, her eyes spotting shapes in the shadows of the stable. Glorfindel, along with Aragorn and Legolas, stood talking in hushed tones. Their faces looked strained, their eyes worried, their body's tense. Something was wrong.
Worried, Krystal leaned the pitchfork against the stall door silently, wrinkling her nose as she stepped over the wheel barrow. Her steps were quick and quiet as she made her way towards the gathering, but Legolas and Glorfindel's heads snapped up, warily.
Legolas forced his face into a smile as he saw her. "Finished yet, Krystal?" he asked, and now Aragorn too glanced up, latching his eyes onto her. She shrugged easily. "Almost." Her eyes traveled uneasily over the three men; why had they stopped talking when she approached? Dare she ask?
She dared. "What were you guys talking about so quietly?" she asked, deciding to make her tone teasing instead of accusing. Glorfindel chuckled. "A curious maiden, you are indeed, Lady Krystal. It was nothing of importance."
She raised her brows. "Nothing, eh?"
Her gaze lingered over Aragorn's proud face and Legolas's strained on, pausing to rest on Glorfindel dangerous eyes. "Nothing at all," he confirmed firmly. He turned hesitantly to his comrades. "Well, I shall be off. Some of the warriors and I are riding on patrol tonight--"Legolas head snapped up, and Krystal's confusion increased. So Glorfindel was doing patrol, so what? --"so I'd better be going. Tonight, I suppose?" he added in an undertone to the ranger, who glanced furtively at Krystal, but nodded. "Tonight."
Krystal shook her head. "Tonight, *what*?" she asked confused, but her question went unanswered. "Good day to you, my lady," Glrofindel added politely, before stepping out of the shadows of the stable and into the bright light of the day.
Krystal raised her brows. "What was *that* about?"
Legolas shrugged. "Need help with the stalls?"
Her suspicious look became more defined. "Since when do you voluntarily clean stalls, mighty Prince?"
He laughed. "I am simply rescuing a damsel in distress," he argued, reaching for the pitchfork and gamely shoveling pieces of dirty hay into her muck pile.
Aragorn snorted, and Legolas shot him a look, but Krystal chuckled. "If you say so," she answered warily, but she was not thrown off *that* easily. What was going on?
--------------
Much later that night, the friends gathered around the table in the Great Hall. Krystal had reluctantly donned a dress, as apparently there were some important visitors from the Kingdom of Men and it would be disrespectful for her to appear in her breeches and boots.
She leaned forward curiously; her eyes brighter then they had been in weeks. A stray curl wound its way around her collar bone, her skin glowing from the light kiss of the sun that afternoon had given her. Several representatives from the human kingdom of Rohan cast her appreciative looks, but her eyes were glued to others.
Elladan and Elrohir were conversing in low tones, their eyes locked on one another's and their faces anxious. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the tone of their voice, it wasn't good. They stood far off in the corner of the room, cast in the shadows. They were dressed for the celebration, but had yet to join the table, which had been what originally drew Krystal's attention.
Next to her, Legolas tried once again to engage her into a distracting conversation, but she waved him away. "Shut up," she hissed. "I'm trying to listen."
Legolas hid his grin, and shot Aragorn a helpless look across from him. "She's trying to listen," he explained in a dead tone.
Aragorn leaned forward, blocking her view of the twins. She glanced furiously at him, cocking her head and leaning to the side so she once again had them in her view.
He caught her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "If they wanted you to hear," he drawled. "They'd tell you."
She rolled her eyes and scowled, yanking her face backwards out of her grasp. "Shut up," she answered firmly. "Nobody tells me anything around here anymore. It's like I'm a little china-doll no one wants to break. I can take it tough, I think I've proved as much!"
"What's a china-doll?" Legolas asked, latching on to something to dodge the question. Her color rose and she shot him a particularly nasty look. "A doll replica of a perfect girl made of very fragile material. If you drop her, she breaks."
Legolas chuckled. "Haughty, we are tonight, it would seem, no?"
She shot him a confused look. "What?"
"Since when, my lady, are you the perfect girl?"
She sighed exasperatedly, but could find nothing to say, except to exclaim impatiently, "Oh!"
Aragorn chuckled at their playful banter, but shook his head. "Krystal, if we keep anything from you, it is for your own good," he added seriously.
She frowned. "Why am I not able to decide what is for my own good and what is not?"
"Because I'm older," Legolas told her with a haughty air.
Krystal snorted. "That explains a lot."
"What's *that* supposed to mean?"
"That would currently explain why your elbow is in your soup. They say the brain cells are the first to go. " She said primly, pointing out with an innocent smile that he had leaned so far over in his attempts to block the twins from view that his elbow had dipped dangerously low to his soup bowl. He started, scowling, and she chuckled.
"If you'll excuse me," she said prettily, sarcasm in her eyes though not in her voice. "I do believe one of those guys over there from Rovan--"
"Rohan," Aragorn corrected.
"--Rohan is giving me the eye. Maybe *he'll* tell me what's going on!" She continued determinedly. She nodded and smiled, then purposely walked over towards the men, away from Aragorn and Legolas.
The two friends glanced at her, before looking back at each other.
"What do you suppose she'll do once she knows?"
"Kill us, is my guess."
Legolas frowned. "Mine too."
Elrohir cocked his head, listening, his eyes narrowed intently as he stood under the thick branches of the weeping willow he knew Krystal was hiding in. Over his shoulder was his bow and quiver, but something about the arrows were different. The usual long, slim deadly shafts were replaced by long sticks with blunt batches of grasses pressed tightly together and put in a leather bag. The bag was then attached to a long, narrow stick, and dipped in brightly colored paint.
It was Middle Earth meets paintball guns.
It was Krystal's idea, of course. After her confrontation with Elladan, and then Legolas, Krystal had emerged unscathed. Eventually, she became the Krystal they knew again, save for one thing.
She wouldn't look them in the eye.
It didn't matter what they said or how they said, or how she laughed or how she smiled. She wouldn't look them in the eye.
Eventually they thought they were over reacting. But as the weeks went by, and still the only glimpses of her eyes they caught was when she rolled them, they began to worry again.
Yet how could they say anything? She would accuse them of being worry-worts and overprotective, and Elrohir reasoned, maybe they were being paranoid.
There was only one thing to do. Let it go. Let the hard stuff, let the complicated implications of her...*stay* in the village, go. She obviously did not wish to speak of it, and they could do nothing but follow her wishes.
It had been Aragorn who had brought of the suggestion of a game to improve on their archery skills, and rightly so. Out of the four of them, Aragorn was the weakest with a bow and arrow, and always felt more comfortable with a sword in his hand as opposed to crouching in a tree with a stick trying to aim for the fist-sized target of the heart. Krystal, though she hadn't been originally included in the plan, immediately worked up a way to make the game more fun and less dangerous so she could persuade her way into the game. Elladan had readily agreed, but it had taken some amount of whining and hair-tossing to convince Aragorn, Legolas, and Elrohir that this was in all actuality a productive activity. Aragorn and Legolas and Elrohir, and even Elladan had been unusually tense this morning, though Krystal didn't know why, so it had taken a good deal more of pleading then it normally would have. Eventually, however, they gave in.
The loser team had to muck out the stalls of the winning team's horses for a week. Elrohir and Elladan had been so sure they were going to win, that before the game had officially began, Krystal had spotted the mischievous twins removing manure from other horses stalls to put in their own mount's stalls, so Krystal, Aragorn and Legolas would have more work to do. Needless to say, she was determined to win.
Elrohir took another deliberate step forward, out of Krystal's viewpoint, and ever so slightly, nodded, his eyes fixed on something in the trees.
Krystal relaxed, leaning back, grinning. She reached for her 'arrows', dripping bright yellow in paint, and aimed directly for Elrohir's back.
Out of nowhere, a blue blurb was flying towards her cheek. It smacked her across the face, splattering blue dye into her mouth and all over her face. She spluttered for a moment, catching onto a particularly large tree branch, her feet swinging out from under her from the impact from the blow. She swung there for a moment, stunned as the paint dripped down over her shirt. Another *arrow* flew towards her midriff and she let out a graceful, 'OMPH!' as it knocked the wind out of her.
Several feet away, Elrohir burst out laughing, and Elladan from his position in the trees across from her, lowered his bow gleefully. "Next time pay attention to your surroundings!" he yelled, laughing over his shoulder as he jumped from tree branch to tree branch as only elves can.
Krystal's eyes narrowed and she wiped the blue paint out of her eyes determinedly, but even she couldn't wipe the grin off her face. She swung herself rather awkwardly onto the tree branch, blinking to keep the paint out of her vision. "LEGOLAS! ARAGORN!" she cried exasperatingly. "WHERE ARE YOU?!" She aimed her bow at Elladan's retreating back, but her arrow fell several feet short and with a snicker, her prey dashed out of sight. But his brother still stood on the path, doubled over with laughter.
Suddenly, Elrohir felt a sharp jab in his derriere. He turned around sharply to find bright yellow paint all over his behind, the 'arrow' sticking out like a tail.
He looked up, horrified to see Aragorn smirking insanely, before letting out a bark of laughter and sprinting off into the trees.
"ARAGORN, I'll get you!" Elrohir roared, plucking the projectile off of his behind with a disgusted look, trying to mask the grin that kept sliding off into his face.
Elladan darted between the trees, a blonde blur on his tail. "Elrohir, run!" Elladan called out in warning, but it was too late, and the speeding yellow projectile hit his brother smack in the face.
Krystal burst into laughter, tears of hysteria mixing with the blue paint that ran down her face. She sat down on the branch, giggling insanely, and swinging her feet back and forth as her laughter echoed throughout the forest. Legolas grinned at the sight of the disgruntled elf, then glanced up with a bark of laughter where Krystal sat like an oversized smurf.
"Lady Krystal," he said graciously with a mock-bow. "You look lovely. The color brings out your eyes."
Krystal's giggling ceased for a moment, and while he raised a brow quizzically, she took her arrow, and not bothering to use her bow as he was so close to the foot of her hiding place, she dropped it on his head.
It dripped down into his already blonde hair slowly but surely, and dripped steadily into the shocked elf's eyes. "We're on the same team!" He exclaimed outrage, but Krystal giggled like mad, jumping down from the tree and running as fast as she could in the opposite direction. "Not anymore!" she called over her shoulder.
Legolas wiped the paint grimly out of his eyes, and Elladan shook his head. "Women," Legolas muttered disgruntled.
----------------------------------------
A few hours later, into the late afternoon, Krystal frowned, pitchfork in hand. She leaned down to scoop some manure into the wheelbarrow near her thigh, then paused at the sound of voices in the stable. She knew she was alone - Elladan and Elrohir had been called to an important meeting and were unable to gloat over her, and Legolas and Aragorn had already done their fair share of stalls after they had lost the game this morning. She glanced over curiously, her eyes spotting shapes in the shadows of the stable. Glorfindel, along with Aragorn and Legolas, stood talking in hushed tones. Their faces looked strained, their eyes worried, their body's tense. Something was wrong.
Worried, Krystal leaned the pitchfork against the stall door silently, wrinkling her nose as she stepped over the wheel barrow. Her steps were quick and quiet as she made her way towards the gathering, but Legolas and Glorfindel's heads snapped up, warily.
Legolas forced his face into a smile as he saw her. "Finished yet, Krystal?" he asked, and now Aragorn too glanced up, latching his eyes onto her. She shrugged easily. "Almost." Her eyes traveled uneasily over the three men; why had they stopped talking when she approached? Dare she ask?
She dared. "What were you guys talking about so quietly?" she asked, deciding to make her tone teasing instead of accusing. Glorfindel chuckled. "A curious maiden, you are indeed, Lady Krystal. It was nothing of importance."
She raised her brows. "Nothing, eh?"
Her gaze lingered over Aragorn's proud face and Legolas's strained on, pausing to rest on Glorfindel dangerous eyes. "Nothing at all," he confirmed firmly. He turned hesitantly to his comrades. "Well, I shall be off. Some of the warriors and I are riding on patrol tonight--"Legolas head snapped up, and Krystal's confusion increased. So Glorfindel was doing patrol, so what? --"so I'd better be going. Tonight, I suppose?" he added in an undertone to the ranger, who glanced furtively at Krystal, but nodded. "Tonight."
Krystal shook her head. "Tonight, *what*?" she asked confused, but her question went unanswered. "Good day to you, my lady," Glrofindel added politely, before stepping out of the shadows of the stable and into the bright light of the day.
Krystal raised her brows. "What was *that* about?"
Legolas shrugged. "Need help with the stalls?"
Her suspicious look became more defined. "Since when do you voluntarily clean stalls, mighty Prince?"
He laughed. "I am simply rescuing a damsel in distress," he argued, reaching for the pitchfork and gamely shoveling pieces of dirty hay into her muck pile.
Aragorn snorted, and Legolas shot him a look, but Krystal chuckled. "If you say so," she answered warily, but she was not thrown off *that* easily. What was going on?
--------------
Much later that night, the friends gathered around the table in the Great Hall. Krystal had reluctantly donned a dress, as apparently there were some important visitors from the Kingdom of Men and it would be disrespectful for her to appear in her breeches and boots.
She leaned forward curiously; her eyes brighter then they had been in weeks. A stray curl wound its way around her collar bone, her skin glowing from the light kiss of the sun that afternoon had given her. Several representatives from the human kingdom of Rohan cast her appreciative looks, but her eyes were glued to others.
Elladan and Elrohir were conversing in low tones, their eyes locked on one another's and their faces anxious. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the tone of their voice, it wasn't good. They stood far off in the corner of the room, cast in the shadows. They were dressed for the celebration, but had yet to join the table, which had been what originally drew Krystal's attention.
Next to her, Legolas tried once again to engage her into a distracting conversation, but she waved him away. "Shut up," she hissed. "I'm trying to listen."
Legolas hid his grin, and shot Aragorn a helpless look across from him. "She's trying to listen," he explained in a dead tone.
Aragorn leaned forward, blocking her view of the twins. She glanced furiously at him, cocking her head and leaning to the side so she once again had them in her view.
He caught her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "If they wanted you to hear," he drawled. "They'd tell you."
She rolled her eyes and scowled, yanking her face backwards out of her grasp. "Shut up," she answered firmly. "Nobody tells me anything around here anymore. It's like I'm a little china-doll no one wants to break. I can take it tough, I think I've proved as much!"
"What's a china-doll?" Legolas asked, latching on to something to dodge the question. Her color rose and she shot him a particularly nasty look. "A doll replica of a perfect girl made of very fragile material. If you drop her, she breaks."
Legolas chuckled. "Haughty, we are tonight, it would seem, no?"
She shot him a confused look. "What?"
"Since when, my lady, are you the perfect girl?"
She sighed exasperatedly, but could find nothing to say, except to exclaim impatiently, "Oh!"
Aragorn chuckled at their playful banter, but shook his head. "Krystal, if we keep anything from you, it is for your own good," he added seriously.
She frowned. "Why am I not able to decide what is for my own good and what is not?"
"Because I'm older," Legolas told her with a haughty air.
Krystal snorted. "That explains a lot."
"What's *that* supposed to mean?"
"That would currently explain why your elbow is in your soup. They say the brain cells are the first to go. " She said primly, pointing out with an innocent smile that he had leaned so far over in his attempts to block the twins from view that his elbow had dipped dangerously low to his soup bowl. He started, scowling, and she chuckled.
"If you'll excuse me," she said prettily, sarcasm in her eyes though not in her voice. "I do believe one of those guys over there from Rovan--"
"Rohan," Aragorn corrected.
"--Rohan is giving me the eye. Maybe *he'll* tell me what's going on!" She continued determinedly. She nodded and smiled, then purposely walked over towards the men, away from Aragorn and Legolas.
The two friends glanced at her, before looking back at each other.
"What do you suppose she'll do once she knows?"
"Kill us, is my guess."
Legolas frowned. "Mine too."